Me, Sam (2/2)
by Hardra61
Summary: A continuation of the first part. Mulder's daughter is growing up, wondering about the mother she's never known, and....changing...quite a bit. click my profile to find part one if you can't find it in the archive :-)


Me, Sam (2/2)  
  
Oy I'm back! Ready to finish this story. Okay! If you haven't read part one I highly suggest you   
do that. But that's all I think. This part, too, is written in the format of a fourteen-year-old that   
is *Not* as one of us writers might say "wordly wise". I am *aware* that she writes like she's   
eleven, that's ON PURPSE ALREADY, let's move on please. Here we go.  
  
  
  
  
Me, Sam (2/2)  
  
  
  
Anyway. Back to the reason I'm telling you this story. I told you in the very beginning that   
three things happened to me and that they were important so I'll finish up there. All right.   
  
*^*  
  
I woke up because there was sun in my eyes. I peeked them open and the brightness hurt my   
eyes. I sat up in bed and rubbed them and looked to the window where the sun was coming in   
by my bed. It must have been around eleven.   
  
Oh, yeah, I thought; it's my fourteenth birthday!  
  
I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs even in my pj's. It was Saturday, so I was going to   
have a slumber party that night. But before that me and Dad were going to do something, but I   
didn't know what yet.   
  
When I got downstairs Dad was putting some stuff in a duffel bag. He looked over his shoulder   
at me and said "Happy birthday! Get something to eat, quick."  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"You'll see. Get dressed and we'll go."  
  
So ran around getting ready to go for ten minutes, like brushing my teeth and putting on some   
jeans and stuff. When I got back down Dad was ready to go and so was I. "Where are we   
going?!" I asked again.   
  
Dad motioned me towards the door and we got in the car. Half an hour later we were sitting in   
the stands of a baseball game! It was very very fun. Afterwards we got milk shakes and I stuck   
my head out the window of the car! Luckily I was born in the spring and it wasn't cold or   
anything. I mean, who would stick their head out when it was snowing? Nobody. And you   
should always stick your head out the window on your birthday. Dad says. Only on his   
birthday he doesn't, because he's driving and plus it's cold out. He stuck his head out the   
kitchen window though.  
  
When we got back home it was getting late, like three or something, and my friends were   
coming over at six. Dad sat down and we talked for a while, but then he got this really serious   
look on his face so I calmed down.  
  
"Sam," My Dad said, "you know this all ready, but.....on this day fourteen years ago, your   
mother died." I nodded my head, because, yeah I'd known that. "Well...." he got a sad kind of   
look on his face and pressed his lips into a thin line before lookin at me again. "Well, I was   
thinking that even though this is your birthday, maybe you would spend a little time to go and   
see her."  
  
I think I knew what he meant. "You mean go see where she's buried?"  
  
"Yes, hon, that's what I mean."  
  
"okay," I said. We got up and got in the car.   
  
We drove to the cemetery which was actually closer to Grandma's house than ours, and we   
walked for a long time without saying anything. Finally we got to my Mom's grave.   
  
It says, "Beloved Daughter, Mother, Sister and Friend" on it. I guess Daughter is for Grandma   
Mother is for me, Sister is for my uncles and Friend is for Dad. We looked at it for a long time.   
A long long time.  
  
Finally Dad started to talk. He said, "Sam, let me tell you a little about who your mother was to   
me." I was quiet. He said, "Before you, I.....We......we were best friends, I guess? I know that I   
trusted her more than anyone on the entire planet. And I think I loved her more, too."  
  
He sounded kind of sad. "I had no idea you were even coming. Had I known......oh, Sam, I   
wouldn't have gone to Oregon. I wouldn't have left her side. But I didn't know.  
  
"And when I came back, there was........what was there? I was told that Dana Katherine Scully   
had died and that I had a daughter, and all that I could think about was, why did I have to go? I   
was following some stupid, egotistical crusade that I'd started a long time ago, and I didn't   
even think that--"  
  
"It wasn't stupid Dad," I said quietly and he stopped talking for a while. I had heard this story a   
few times, usually on Christmas or Thanksgiving or other birthdays that I'd had. But I'd never   
seen him so nerve wracked before.   
  
"If only I had known," Dad said finally in a flat voice.   
  
"She still would have died," I said softly. It wasn't so hard for me to talk about my Mom dying   
because I'd grown up with it. "She still would have died even if you hadn't gone."  
  
"But at least she wouldn't have had to die alone," he said in a choked voice. It scared me so I   
grabbed his arm and hugged him. He hugged back.   
  
Finally he let go and he reached behind his neck, and he took off the little golden cross he   
always wore. I used to think it was weird because he never went to church. I always went to   
church, but I didn't like it all that much. I think it was boring. For a while I went with   
Grandma, and sometimes Dad would come and sit through the sermons with me, but he was   
never *there*, like, I mean he wasn't thinking about God and Jesus with the rest of us. After a   
while Grandma took over church and Dad stopped going altogether. Dad always said that I   
should be raised Christian because of my Mom's family's beliefs. I've always wanted to believe   
what he believes, though.  
  
He held the cross out to me. "I want you to have this," he said. I wondered why, because I   
didn't like church all that much and I wasn't used to wearing fancy gold kind of necklaces   
every day. But I took it anyway and he helped me fasten it on. "It was your mom's," he said,   
then sniffled a little. I thought it was all very sad.   
  
"She always wore it," he said slowly, "when she went missing, I wore it for her. It reminded   
me that I had to keep up hope that one day, she'd come back. When I got back from Oregon,   
your Grandma gave it to me. I promised her I'd give it to you one day."  
  
I touched the necklace and looked at my mother's grave. "You should keep it," I said finally,   
starting to unfasten it, "It means more to you."  
  
He covered my hands which were trying to undo the clasp with his own very big hands and I   
stopped. "No, Samantha. I want you to keep it, to remember that you had a very loving mother,   
who most definitely watches over you from......heaven, and protects you wherever you are."  
  
His voice faltered a little at heaven.  
  
"I don't need a cross to remember that," I pleaded. He needed that cross more than I did! "I   
know Mom loves me. I don't need this to prove it!"  
  
He looked sad and he looked down at the grave. It looked like he was trying not to cry which I   
appreciated, because if he was going to cry then I most definitely was going to cry.   
  
"Take it, Sam. Please. Have faith."  
  
So I took the cross. If it made him feel better.   
  
We managed to cheer up on the way home. My birthday wasn't over yet.  
  
  
*^*  
  
That was the first thing that happened to me. I know I said all three things happened on the   
same day, but that's kind of a lie, because May 22nd is actually a sort of average of the three   
days. I should have just said "May" but "on May 22nd three things happened" sounded like a   
much better opener, don't you think?  
  
Well, there are still two more things I need to tell you about, so don't give up yet.   
  
The next thing happened a week later.  
  
*^*  
  
Ok, um, how do I word this in the right way? My body had been changing, ok, and don't get all   
giggly and stupid. I mean, all the other girls in my classes at school were getting busty and   
stuff, but I must have been the proverbial 'late bloomer' because I had just turned fourteen. Is   
that sad or what?  
  
Anyway a week later started.....bum bum bum......The Girl Thing. You know. The monthly,   
cramp-provoking, female-only blah-in-general Girl Thing? That started.   
  
My Dad *Totally* *Flipped.*  
  
I sat on the toilet crying my eyes out cuz I had no idea what was going on while Dad ran   
around outside the door in full protective-dad-worry-mode and about an hour later Grandma   
got over and all was saved. I learned the secrets of the Adult Conspiracy and was supremely   
disappointed to learn that all girls in the world had to go through this. I mean, how   
*UNFAIR!*  
  
Well I don't want to hang on the subject because guys and men don't like to hear about this and   
I suspect that some people reading this sucky excuse for a story must be male, so I'll move on   
to the next thing quickly-like.   
  
The next thing happened three days later.   
  
*^*  
  
In Math Class to be particular.   
  
I was staring at my Algebra problems when somebody to my right said "X to the 0 equals one,   
so....." I looked around quickly; it was Amy who was in the next row. Amy talking to herself   
during a test I wondered, and shook my head a little. Amy was the star student of the class; she   
would never say the answers out loud.   
  
Meanwhile, hey. Question three was X to the 0 is what?  
  
Later in English class, I was failing my essay question with the greatest of....failure. I put my   
head down on the table and sighed. Then I heard somebody say that the second essay question   
was about Women's participation in the American Revolution. I jerked my head up and looked   
around, the class was silent.   
  
What was wrong with me? I closed my eyes and concentrated.   
  
Here is what I heard.  
  
Oh, man, why didn't I bring the cheat sheet anyway??  
  
Hmm, I wonder if I should call Sandy or if Sandy will call me....  
  
Did African-Americans have a big part in the revolution? Dang I wish I'd studied chapter   
three more....  
  
Ha! I know this, this is alliteration!  
  
Is that Mulder girl sleeping in her seat? Maybe I should go check.  
  
I **HATE!*** The American Revolution!!!!  
  
I popped my eyes open just before the teacher put her hand on my shoulder. I jumped and she   
jumped. "Miss Mulder, if you'd be so kind as to begin to answer your questions; you have   
fifteen minutes left before class is over." I hate her so much.   
  
So I whipped up an essay, maybe, just maybe using some of the other kids thoughts to help me   
out. And I got my backpack and I rode the bus home.  
  
The next actual coherent words I picked up, (words that is,) is at the dinner table when Dad   
bent down to get a good look straight into my eyes. "Kapasa, kid, what's on your mind?" he   
said to me.   
  
"Uh?" I said, snapping out of my listening-mode. "oh, Dad!" I suddenly realized he was there.  
  
"Oh, Sam!" he realized back.  
  
"No, really. I was going to tell you sooner. It's really neat! I can read people's minds!" I said. "I   
just found out today in Math class, I started to hear the answers coming out of other people's   
heads, and other thoughts too like what they wish they were doing instead of math--it's very   
interesting!"  
  
He looked at me and put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. "hmmmm.....what am I   
thinking about?"  
  
"You're thinking that you wish we had a Chevy convertible instead of the Taurus."  
  
His jaw dropped suddenly and he looked straight into my eyes. "Now??"  
  
"You're trying to think about Elvis, but what you're really thinking about is something about   
aliens and DNA and you and Mom," I said.   
  
Well then he grabbed my hand and we got in the car and a minute later we were in the FBI   
headquarters place, and he was telling me not to be worried or anything. Well great job Dad,   
because I was. I was really worried!! I was even worrieder when he said we'd have to stay   
overnight. He never left my side, though, but I was afraid anyway.   
  
While I was trying to sleep, he held my hand and told me another story. This one I had not   
heard before.   
  
"Before you were born, Sam, your mother disappeared. You know that, but you don't know   
what they did to her. Even now, we're not quite sure. But they--they being the secret   
government, whoever they are--did do something; and to both your mother and myself. For a   
long time after her death I've struggled to find what they've done to us, and, because you are   
made from and contain remnants of our genes, what they've done to you."  
  
I was trying to follow him the best I could. Being in the creepy lab with the guys with guns   
was scary enough. But I tried to listen and understand.   
  
"I know that both your mother and I have been exposed to certain..." he searched for a good   
word "antiviruses, possibly making us immune to what the future will hold......we can't know   
for sure. But I'd always wondered whether we'd passed that down to you.  
  
"And apparently we have."  
  
I fell asleep and when I woke up, they packed a bunch of people in the room and set up some   
computers and things, and I had to show them about my powers. Powers is what I call them,   
because that's what they are right? Hey maybe I can be a superhero when I grow up. Or star in   
my own tv show. Or not. I don't know!  
  
Dad told me a story once about how he saw a symbol and it triggered something in his head;   
and how he could read peoples minds for a while. Then, he told me, 'They' took him and when   
they gave him back, it was gone. They showed me the symbol, and although Dad said he hurt   
when he saw it, I didn't. It was almost as if I could understand it. For about a week I wasn't   
allowed to leave the FBI place, and Grandma came to see me, and Dad never left my side.   
  
He tells me now that nobody will ever take me.   
  
As for now, there are more people in Dad's section now. They took me out of public school   
and I learn at home most of the time. I have two teachers, there's Dad, he teaches me Geometry   
and Literature, and Miss Ellis who teaches me about everything else. Dad says he would teach   
me all the time but he's really busy with his X-files, being in charge of all those agents and   
everything.   
  
And another thing; I'm never alone.   
  
There is always someone, I've noticed; a dark-suited FBI guy with a gun, or Dad, or Mr.   
Skinner or somebody, but there's always somebody. It makes me feel angry and secure at the   
same time; but Dad told me I would learn how to use a gun soon, and I'm starting karate.   
  
But even with all the protection, sometimes I get scared. Scared, because if someone is always   
watching me, who would try to get to me? What kind of enemies did I pick up just because my   
Powers kicked in?   
  
Every day I train myself and my mind, because one day I have a feeling that nobody will be   
there to protect me.  
  
  
  
*^*  
  
I wake up in the middle of the night. I've had another nightmare; in this one I'm in a dark room   
with no doors or windows, and the floor falls out and I fall, and fall, and fall....and right when I   
start to think I'm never going to land I land on a pile of thorns and then I wake up.   
  
I shake out my head and slip out from under the covers, padding on bare feet down the   
hallway. It's raining outside; there was thunder earlier on but it's gone now. Just raining.   
  
I sneak into Dad's room and sit on the edge of his bed. His hair is messed up, and his gun is   
lying on the bedside table. He leaves the gun out more and more often these days; but it's ok   
because I know better than to touch it. He keeps it out because what if I'm in danger and he has   
to go and reach up on top of the fridge I guess.  
  
I watch him sleep for a little while. He looks very peaceful with his head on his arms like that.   
I wonder if he's dreaming about Mom. I think he must dream about her a lot, don't you?  
  
Carefully I unfasten Mom's cross from around my neck and I lean over him, and gently I fasten   
the cross around his neck instead. I kiss his head and slip off the bed, silently padding back   
down the hall to my room.  
  
It really does mean more to him.  
  
  
  
  
~Finis~  
  
Thanks for putting up with this....i know it's not like me, writing something that's not really sad   
or depressing for a change. Or maybe it is a little sad, but not depressing. Anyway, send me   
feedback and I will devour it. Flames are not as hot as you think *g*  
  
Thanks Mom for letting me stay up and write this luv ya  
  
p.s. my Grammar really is better than this, please don't egg me about it!!  



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